


Snow Fall

by CleverCorgi



Series: The Arctic Hare and the Easter Bunny [4]
Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Character death is...complicated, Humor, M/M, Original Secondary Characters, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Mpreg
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-20
Updated: 2013-11-19
Packaged: 2017-12-24 02:36:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/934226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CleverCorgi/pseuds/CleverCorgi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>"for though the righteous man fall seven times, they rise again, but the wicked stumble when calamity strikes."</em> - Proverbs 24:16</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the next installment of _The Arctic Hare and the Easter Bunny_ or, as I've taken to calling it as shorthand, the Snowverse.
> 
> This will be a fun, if quite bumpy, ride. Do enjoy.... *evil laughter echoes into the distance*

_The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it._ – John 1:5

 

~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~

 

 “– and no more pranks on the Groundhog!  He’s paranoid enough already from everything you three have done in the last month!”  Aster called as the children wandered off down a side tunnel that would take them to Katherine’s home.

_Not that I disapprove, really, but the constant messages asking for mercy are getting annoying,_ Aster thought, grinning internally.

“Yes Father!” the three kits chorused together.  And then giggled.

_That’s not promising._

“I’ll keep an eye on them, Father,” Asteria called afterward, waving away his concern.

Nodding in acceptance – Asteria was fairly responsible, now that she’d grown mostly out of the ‘child’ stage of her accelerated development – Aster meandered back over to where he’d been working on painting googies for the upcoming Easter.  As his holiday was only a week away, the kits had gone off to stay with Katherine to be out from underfoot.  They weren’t quite old enough to have the concentration necessary to help more than hinder.

_Next year, they can help_ , Aster mused happily as he settled down with his brush and pots.  Several googies crowded around him begging to be painted.

He picked up a googie at random and, after selecting a pattern from his mental portfolio, he dipped his brush in paint and got to work.  He allowed his mind to wander as he got into a rhythm, thinking back over recent months.  The memories that stood out the most were, of course, the pranks the kits had started playing on the Groundhog since his ‘holiday,’ if one could even call it that –

_Pompous ass.  Makes one prediction about the weather a year and then parties for the rest of it._

Beyond that, though, he was continually surprised by the kits progress.  He’d grown up with younger siblings, so he had an inkling of what to expect, but it had been so long he’d forgotten just how _fast_ they grew up.  As they were nine months from being three years old, had they been back on the homeworld, they would have been entering primary school in the fall, where they would have studied all the basics – mathematics, introductory science, history, and a few other similarly broad subjects.  They would have also been required to choose at least one instrument or art form, as well as a martial art form.  After three years of that, they would have chosen a vocational school to attend for the next three to six years, depending on their field of study.

Had any of them chosen a military career, like he had, they would have been sent to a training camp after four years in their vocational training.  By the time of their first rut at fourteen, they would have already completed one two-year tour of duty and been allowed an extended leave to settle down with a mate, with the expectation of a return to military life in a couple years.

It had been right at the beginning of Aster’s leave that the General had fallen and released the Fearlings, and everything else, from the prison planet.  His and his chosen mate’s plans to raise a family were put on hold when they were both called up for emergency war time service.  And, well –

He didn’t like thinking about what happened after that.

Giving himself a mental shake, Aster returned his attention to his work, pausing for a moment when he realized he’d painted the googie in his hand to look like a blue star sapphire with a rather pronounced asterism.

_I think Asteria will like this one,_ he thought, grinning to himself as he set it aside in the ‘special’ basket for the kits.

Asteria.  Now that was an interesting situation.  He’d grown to love her like his own daughter – which she was, since the body _was_ their kit – and she’d happily complied with his wishes for a bit of distance at first, since he felt the need to get to know her before he could fully accept the situation.  She had proven to be everything he could want in a daughter, so that ‘evaluation period’ had been relatively short.  When he had presented her with a gift for her patience, she’d been overcome with joy.  Jack had rewarded him quite _pleasantly_ that night for his efforts.

She was now almost eight years old, physically.  She should have been two years into her secondary education, although she obviously didn’t need it, given her unique situation.  As the former Mother Nature, she already spent quite a bit of time with Seraphina and Arcturus, planning the global weather and assisting Sera in guiding evolution.  Aster was given to understand that they were currently working on an offshoot of the platypus that they planned to introduce to Tasmania soon.  He was pretty sure the humans would be completely confused by this version – they’d added several features, including a form of bioelectromagnetism for geomagnetic navigation, which would definitely surprise even the most jaded evolutionary biologist.  Then there had been mention of a new species of spider for Australia –

Aster shuddered at the thought.  _I hate spiders._

As she was quickly approaching sexual maturity, she’d taken to stalking Arcturus.  Truly stalking, as in she followed him everywhere; she had retained the ability to teleport via the mist form Mother Nature used and could follow Arcturus wherever he went, regardless of how he got there.  Aster had no doubt that she would demand he allow her to move into his Antarctic Warren within the year.  Two at most.

Aster was inclined to allow it, if she bothered to ask him first before accosting the Old Man, if only because he wanted to see Arcturus flabbergasted.  That was always entertaining.  She wouldn’t be capable of breeding until she aged to fourteen – full adulthood – but hopefully she could get the Eldest to loosen up a bit by making herself available for his next rut.  Or maybe the one after.

Just so long as Aster didn’t have to watch.  Pooka he may be – prudishness being a trait rare amongst his kind – there were some things he never wanted to see.

A chill breeze wafting past, tickling his nose and gently ruffling his fur, brought him out of his reverie.  Aster set aside his paints and brushes before standing and stretching to get the kinks out of his back.

Jack was home.

“Hey Jackie, where you been – what have you done to yourself!” Aster exclaimed as he turned to face his mate.

Jack grinned.  “I felt like experimenting with my form a bit, practice my shapeshifting.  What do you think?”

Jack displayed himself, swaying this way and that, to show off his changes.  The grey tips of his ears were several shades darker and the grey portion reached nearly halfway down his ears.   His muzzle was similarly darker with the grey shade extending out into his cheek fluff a bit.  It darkened to nearly black towards his nose, which was less shimmery than before and almost seemed darker than black, somehow.  His eyes were surrounded by darker coloring as well, similar in style to gothic eye makeup, although just a slim outline of each eye.

His markings were noticeably darker as well, more than halfway to black from the usual light grey; a branching Lichtenberg-like marking ran down his right arm to the back of his hand from where the original marking crossed over his shoulder; it then further split, splaying little branches that ran over the back of each finger almost to the tip.  The tips of his fingers were nearly black, almost frostbitten in style, although definitely just dark fur; the skin was visibly pale still, although with a slightly greyish cast. 

His tail was tipped with a dark grey-black patch that faded out to white quickly.  Further, his footpaws were darkened in a similar fashion to his fingertips, giving him ‘socks’ almost halfway up his calves, although slightly asymmetrical in favor of a taller ‘sock’ on the left side.  Lastly, the darker fur of his left paw ran back up his hand and partly onto his forearm, fading to white as it went upwards; it contrasted interestingly against the medium-dark wood of his staff.  It almost looked like he’d dipped several body parts in dark grey-black ink.

Taking in the full effect, Aster suppressed a shudder.  It was interesting, to be sure, if a smidge creepy.  Almost Goth in style, really.  Was Jack going through a phase?

“It’s interesting mate, although I don’t know if the kits’ll like it,” was his voiced opinion.

Jack smirked and shrugged, gesturing with the staff in his left hand vaguely.  “I’m just having some fun.  I’m to keep the markings for a few days before I play with them again or maybe return them to normal.  Depends on how I’m feelings then.”

Aster raised an eyebrow at that statement, but decided against commenting on it directly.  “Hey, do you want to help with the preparations?”

Jack tilted his head to the left as if thinking it over for several moments – which was an unusual gesture itself – before nodding with a grin.  “I’d – like that.”

Dismissing the odd behavior as Jack just messing with him, Aster shifted the pots of paint to be between them and handed Jack a brush.  “Just remember, concentrate on the brush being clean to remove any excess paint before dipping it in another jar.”

Jack eyed the paint brush for a moment, before waving it vaguely.  “Yeah, yeah.  I remember.”

They settled in to paint.  Aster sighed in contentment as he resumed his rhythm, now with his mate at his side.

Aster didn’t see Jack smirk at the sigh, nor did he see how Jack was observing him contemplatively out of the corner of his eye.

 

~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~

 

Jack awoke, head throbbing.

“Ow,” he muttered, discovering his mouth felt like it had been stuffed with cotton.

_Wonderful.  The hell happened?_

His head felt like he’d been bludgeoned repeatedly with a heavy object.  He felt a slight dampness near one ear and reached a shaky hand up to touch it.  His paw came away glistening slightly, pinkish-purple blood staining his fingertips.  It was partly congealed, so at least he wasn’t bleeding out; granted, head wounds were notorious for bleeding profusely in comparison to the damage, so they usually looked worse than they really were.  He shifted into a sitting position and froze at the sound of creaking metal and chains.

_What the – oh fucking hell._

He was in a cage, hanging from a high vaulted ceiling in a darkened, only partially, if faintly, lit chamber.  Gazing around cautiously, he thought he recognized the M. C. Escher-like construction of the chamber, which meant –

“Fuck,” Jack cursed as he remembered.

A dark chuckle answered him.

“So, the sleeper awakens.  Hello, Jack Frost, so good of you to join us.  Did you miss me?” came the sibilant hiss from the shadows.

Several dozen neighs could be heard around the chamber.

_I am so screwed,_ Jack thought, fear gripping his heart momentarily.

“Your fear is _delicious_ ,” Pitch purred from the shadows.

_Fuck_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliffhangers are ever so much fun, don't you think?
> 
> For those that are likely curious, this is the final installment in the main trilogy. I have some additional work planned for the series afterwards, although it is still somewhat nascent and will likely be put off in favor of a couple other projects first once I've finished this story arc.
> 
> Speaking of other projects, those include a collaborative project that I will be co-authoring along with my fellow member of the Evil Authors Club, [Kayasurin](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Kayasurin/pseuds/Kayasurin). We found a prompt on the kink meme that is ever so _enticing_ to us and have joined forces to do it justice. In addition to that, I have several ideas of my own, as well as an ever growing list of interesting prompts that I may decided to fill eventually from off of the kink meme. I may query people at a later date for which of those short projects sound the most interesting, to set a sort of 'priority list.' This will likely be near the end of _Snow Fall_.
> 
> For now, suffer in angst and mystery until the next chapter! Mwahahahaha!


	2. Dark Reflections

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ever so hope you all enjoy this chapter... oh yes.... *cackles*

After Pitch had taunted Jack some more, he stalked off into the shadows, leaving a few Nightmares to watch over his prisoner and keep the fear flowing.  The Boogeyman was a bit more unhinged than Jack remembered, but that might have something to do with the artifact that he’d stolen several years ago.

Jack relaxed as best he could and took stock of his situation, as his mind turned to the recent past in an attempt to figure out where his day – if it even was the same day – went so horribly wrong.  And it had started out so promising….

 

~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~

 

Jack’s laughter was swallowed by the Wind as they flew in a haphazardly random pattern of swoops, dives, climbs, swirls, and twists, sometimes fighting the jet stream, sometimes hurtling along at breakneck speeds with it.  He was simply enjoying the sensations of flight, the wind whipping through his fur leaving a faintly tingling sting in its wake.

Bunny was back at the Warren, painting his heart out; the kits were being herded off to Katherine’s in few hours’ time, and he –

Well, he was out to splash the world with a bit more snow, Groundhog be damned.

Jack first sprinkled a heavy dusting of snow across most of Canada; he then flew north to play with a brewing storm, calming it into a moderate snow rather than the severe blizzard that had been threatening.  The Northwest Territories would only be covered in a couple feet of snow, now, rather than the house-burying drifts that had been predicted.

“Suck on _that_ , weatherman!” Jack shouted gleefully into the Wind, twirling in a spiral upwards as he laughed.

He so enjoyed confounding meteorologists.

Following that altruistic endeavor, he flew south to Montana, then west to the Rocky Mountains, and west further still to the Cascades.  He topped off the snow on every mountain he passed, including a hefty snowfall over Mount Hood, of the right density and size to make it perfect for the skiers clamoring for their turn at the slopes.

He loved watching skiers and snowboarders careening recklessly down the sides of mountains covered in _his_ snow almost as much as confounding weathermen.

Almost.

Furthermore, as he knew that Mother Nature was planning a very hot summer for North America before a cold snap that would last from autumn to nearly the next Easter, he wanted to ensure the mortals had enough runoff from the mountains to remain hydrated.

Before he went on to Europe, and then Russia, Jack flew east to Burgess, wanting to give Jamie and his other believers one final snow day before Easter.  It was the weekend anyway, so it wouldn’t interrupt school.  More’s the pity, but he’d promised Jamie not to mess with the weather during the week leading up to Easter – his school was having a series of events, educational and otherwise, that he really wanted to attend.

That didn’t mean he couldn’t poke at it to ensure that the weather behaved.  Or maybe dusted the ground with snow overnight that turned into sparkling dew within an hour of sunrise.

Cupcake and Pippa seemed to really love when he did that.

As Jack flew within sight of Burgess, he banked to the side to do a flyover of his lake, as was his habit.  He may not live around there anymore, and hadn’t for several years, but he still had a soft spot – somewhat oddly, considering he’d drowned there – for the place he’d called home for three hundred years.

He did _not_ expect the net of nightmare sand that dropped out of the clouds and drug him down to his lake.  He splashed into it with a mighty crash – he’d been flying well over terminal velocity, so that had _fucking hurt_.  Water was like concrete at those speeds.  He was never more glad for his spiritual toughness than he was right then.  Still –

 _Ow ow ow_ , Jack thought dazedly, working to suppress the reflexive panic that seemed to try to overcome him every time he had submerged since he regained the memories of his death.

With an act of will, he created a plane of ice beneath him.  Jack floated to the surface upon it, momentarily stunned and still tangled in the net.  He glanced around, but couldn’t see the perpetrator anywhere.  Unless…

He shook himself mentally and awkwardly aimed his staff at a particularly dark spot of shadows under one tree and fired a volley of ice shards.  The darkness immediately lightened, well before the ice impacted the area.

A slow clapping resounded through the clearing.

 _Shit_.

“Oh, _very good_ , Frost.  You found my hiding place surprisingly fast for one who had just crashed into a lake at such speed.  Your _believers_ have certainly given you much power.  To be feared by a lesser man than myself, I’m sure,” Pitch purred from the shadow of a rock as he emerged, avoiding the light by virtue of a small overhang.

Jack tried to free himself from his bindings, but to no avail.  He surreptitiously tried to freeze a portion of it, but the net seemed to repair itself almost as fast.

_Well, crap._

“Tsk tsk tsk, Frost.  It is not nice to freeze your host’s things,” Pitch chided, drifting closer as gathering clouds blocked the sunlight.  He began ghosting across the water’s surface, neither touching it nor flying over it.  Just – there.

Jack laughed, slightly hysterically, as he replied, “Host?  I’m not your guest, Pitch.  I’m an _unfortunate_ acquaintance of yours.”  Jack’s tone grew more serious and darker.  “I still owe you one for that Plague.”

Pitch’s eyes lit up as he came to loom over Jack.  “Oh, _yes_.  That was ever so much _fun_.  Now, come along; we have _much_ to do.”

Jack recoiled from Pitch’s outstretched hand.  “What makes you think I’m going anywhere with you?”

Pitch smirked.  “My dear Jack, what makes you think you have a choice?”

Shadows overwhelmed Jack, blotting out light and consciousness.

 

~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~

 

When Jack regained consciousness, he found himself in a large, dark chamber.  He moved to stand and found that he could barely move, chained with inky black shadows to the floor.  He could manage a defensive crouch, at least.  He swept his gaze around the room, looking for his assailant while wishing that he had some way to contact his mate.

The chamber wasn’t as large as he’d first thought, nor were there any hanging cages above, so he decided that this must be a side chamber.  Along one wall were several bookcases, filled to the brim with books of all shapes, sizes, and ages.  Some were in seemingly mint condition, while others looked to be barely held together by leather bindings and twine.  The bookcases were somewhat misshapen, shelves misaligned with each other and the cases themselves of different heights and widths; it took Jack a moment to realize that they were made of solidified shadows and black sandstone, which glittered in the faint illumination.

It was too faint to properly call ‘light.’

Opposite the bookcases, several tables stood, appearing to have been made of an extremely dark wood, almost black in coloration, with greyish streaks throughout.  The tables looked a fair bit sturdier than the bookcases; certainly, they were much more level.  There were several dozen books strewn about the tables haphazardly.  One table was slightly set off from the rest and appeared to not only be of better construction, but contained only a handful of books.  These books were carefully arranged in stacks, except for the couple that stood open to various pages.

The tables themselves were arranged in a semi-circle around a wide, heavy black sandstone pedestal, atop which rested a giant black mirror, whose diameter appeared to be greater than Jack was tall.  The surface was perfectly smooth, although the edges looked as if they had been chipped into shape with stone tools, the work was so rough.  It looked almost like it was made of –

 _Oh shit_.

Obsidian.  That was – that was –

The Obsidian Mirror.

 _The_ Obsidian Mirror.

Which Pitch had stolen from Tezcatlipoca a few years back and used to create those doppelgangers they’d fought.  And used to inflict the Nightmare Plague on him and the elder kits.  And – and – who knows what else?  He’s had time and the resources to study the Mirror’s workings.

Jack, ever cautious when it came to his family, had spent some time with Tezcatlipoca and Quetzalcoatl, learning about the Mirror’s properties and a fair amount of Nahuatl.  He’d insisted on the language lessons once they’d informed him that the Mirror only responded to commands spoken in Nahuatl and wanted to be prepared.  He had no idea what any of the commands _were_ , but that was neither here nor there because –

“Ah, I see you are awake.  _Excellent_ ,” Pitch purred as he stepped into sight, hands clasped behind his back as he drifted towards Jack.

Jack growled and fought his bonds, but said nothing.  Pitch cocked an eyebrow at him, before shrugging and turning to drift to the Mirror.

“Isn’t the Mirror beautiful, Jack?  It is such a pity you had to choose the _rabbit_ over me; we could have done great things together.  _Great things_.  This Mirror allows you to project your powers anywhere you can dream of!  Could you imagine, spreading fear and ice across the globe without having to step outside your stronghold?  We could have done great things, but … no matter.  You chose the ‘Easter Bunny’ over me.  Such then shall be your fate.”

Jack suppressed a shiver.  _That wasn’t a creepy speech at_ all _._

Pitch reached behind the Mirror and pulled out –

“My staff!” Jack exclaimed, straining against his bonds once more.  “Give that back!”

Pitch _fondled_ the wood.

 _Fondled_.

Jack twitched and turned away for a moment, too disgusted by the sight.  When he turned back –

“Eep!”

Pitch was inches from his face, grinning maniacally.

Jack lunged.

He was drawn up short by the shadow-chains a mere inch from Pitch’s Cheshire grin.  Pitch laughed, long, low, and dark, as he stood up, Jack’s staff held loosely in his hand, just out of Jack’s reach.  Pitch gestured with his free hand and the chains pulled Jack up and off the floor, new ones tightening around his waist as his limbs were splayed across a huge black sandstone cross.  The chains morphed and shifted, tying him by his wrists and ankles to the stone.  Pitch pressed the tip of the butt of the staff against his ribs on one side.

“Such a pretty picture you make, Jack Frost, all but crucified before me.  A pity I cannot _nail_ you to it; t’would be fitting, sacrifice that you are.”

Jack stuttered, “Sac—sacrifice?”

Pitch smirked and breathed deeply.  “Ah, your fear is _delicious_.  Sacrifice, oh yes.  You’re death is not quite imminent, no, no, not yet!  But soon, very soon.  First, however –” Pitch paused as he turned to the Mirror and gestured, stepping to the side.

The pedestal shivered and a plethora of tiny black shadow-legs sprung from the base, lifting the pedestal and crawling across the floor towards them, looking like some huge, misshapen centipede.  Jack shivered at the disturbing tableau his mind conjured up.  The pedestal came to sit a few feet from Jack, adjusting its height such that Jack could see a slightly distorted version of himself in the Mirror’s surface.

“What – what are you going to do?” Jack questioned, worry squirming in his gut.

Pitch laughed again.

“Oh, my dear, dear Jack.  I have perfected the manufacture of doppelgangers!  In fact, I have moved a step beyond!  Behold!” Pitch pronounced, throwing his arms wide as he turned to the Mirror.  He leaned forward and muttered several words in Nahuatl, over and over again in a low chant.

The sane, determined part of Jack’s mind listened closely while the rest of it gibbered in growing worry.  His mind exploded in fear a moment later when the image of himself _shifted_ , looked _right at him_ , and _smirked_.  Jack’s eyes widened in horror as the shadow bonds holding his image to the cross-image dissipated and his image dropped to a crouch before it.  The image shimmered and darkened as it stood to its full height, its markings shifting and changing and black ‘socks’ growing up from its fingers and toes.

And then it _stepped out of the Mirror_.

“Hello, _Jack_ ,” the not-Jack purred seductively as it leered at him.

Pitch reached over and _pet_ the not-Jack, who purred and nuzzled into the touch.  After a moment of that disturbing display, the not-Jack opened his eyes again and grinned insanely at Jack.

“Can I kill him now Master?” the not-Jack asked, tone excited.

Jack quailed internally.  _This can’t be real!_

Then the not-Jack reached out and touched him.

“Oh, Jack, Jack, _Jack_.  I _am_ real.  Well, _almost_ real.”

_Shit shit shit!  He can hear my thoughts!_

The not-Jack smirked and nodded.

“You see, _Jack_ ,” the not-Jack whispered as he leaned in close.  “I have to _kill_ you before I can become a ‘real boy.’”

Then the not-Jack _kissed_ him.

Jack tried to pull away, but the not-Jack’s grip was like a vise.  Jack yelped in pain when the not-Jack bit his lip, breaking the skin and drawing blood.  The not-Jack moved back an inch and lapped at his lip for a moment before pulling away completely.

“ _Delicious_ ,” the not-Jack purred before turning to gaze earnestly at Pitch.  “Can I kill him?  Can I, can I?”

“Not now, pet.  I have a task for you first,” Pitch replied, holding out the staff.

Jack gazed on in shock as the not-Jack took the staff and it _responded_ , frost blooming across its surface.  The not-Jack swung the staff experimentally several times, before spinning in place and firing a volley of ice shards at a nearby wall.

“Yes, this will do nicely,” Pitch murmured darkly.  “Come, pet.  Your task awaits.”

“What would you have me do, Master?”

Jack froze in place at Pitch’s next words.

“Kill E. Aster Bunnymund.”

“Yes Master!” the not-Jack exclaimed ecstatically.

As the not-Jack turned to go, Pitch gestured and he paused, gazing raptly back over his shoulder.  “Yes Master?”

Pitch turned to gaze at Jack, eyes aglow.

“Kill the kits too.  All of them.”

Jack’s heart skipped a beat.

“Nooo!” Jack screamed, struggling against his bonds.  “Pitch!  Piiitch!”

Pitch sniffed.  “Silence him, pet.”

The not-Jack grinned delightedly.  “Of course, Master.”

The crook of Jack’s staff impacted against his skull and his world went black.


	3. Arguments and Taunts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pardon the long delay. On top of a busy week and a minor car accident (I'm fine, don't worry! My car was damaged, but that only took a day to fix!), I was having trouble getting into not-Jack's headspace. It's... not a pretty place. Bit fractured, really, which is quite telling, I suppose.
> 
> Anyway, Enjoy!

_Kill him_ , not-Jack heard a voice say, tone dark and sinister.

 _No,_ he thought back, mental voice determined, if broken.

He was painting eggs with Bunnymund again – _Aster_ – his mate – _Jack’s_ mate – _MINE!_ – and enjoying himself immensely.  He was putting off doing his Master’s bidding because he felt like it – _MINE!_ – and the kits weren’t here anyway, so he was just waiting, right?

_Kill.  Him._

_No._

_KILL HIM!_ the voice shouted, angry now.

 _NO!_ he shouted back, voice quivering.

 _Master told you to kill him,_ another voice started up, soft and sibilant.

 _I don’t want to_ , not-Jack replied pleadingly.  _I want to keep him_.

“Jack?  Can you hand me that pot of paint over there?” Bunny said suddenly, interrupting not-Jack’s argument with his voices – himself – those _irritating_ people who wouldn’t go away.

He started slightly as he came out of his thoughts.  “Oh, um, this one?”

Bunny nodded, smiling gently.

“Here!” not-Jack chirped cheerfully.

“Thanks, mate,” Bunny replied as he returned to his eggs.

 _Kill him with an egg_ , a maniacal voice added as not-Jack watched the other Pooka – _real_ Pooka.

 _No_ , not-Jack thought, _I don’t want to.  I’ll be real soon, once I kill ‘real’ Jack!  Then Aster – Bunny –_ my _mate will love_ me!

They painted on in companionable silence for several more hours, not-Jack and Aster, before the voices started to bother the reflection again.

 _You’re just a reflection_ , the sibilant voice hissed.  _Why would he want you?_

 _I’m more than a reflection!  I_ can _be real!  I just have to kill Jack – myself – the original!  Then there won’t be another for Bunny – Aster – MINE! – my mate to be distracted by!_

 _Kill him,_ the rough and angry voice commanded once more.

_NO!  Go away!_

_Drown him in the Coloring River!_ the maniacal voice added.

 _Oh, yes, I like that one_ , the sibilant voice replied thoughtfully. _It has a certain – whimsy to it._

_NO NO NO NO NO NO –_

“Jack?  Careful with that googie there!  You’re gripping it a bit too tightly,” Bunny cautioned.

Not-Jack started again at Bunny’s words.

“Oh?  Um, sorry.  Sorry little guy!” he replied, apologizing to both Bunny and the egg-thing.

The egg-thing kicked him lightly in reproach, but then started swinging its legs gaily, so he must be forgiven.  Bunny chuckled.

_I won’t kill him, I won’t kill him, I won’t kill him, I won’t kill him, I won’t kill him, I won’t kill him… he’s MINE!_

 

~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~

 

“Oi, mate, I’m knackered.  You up for some dinnies and then bed?” Bunny said abruptly as he stood and stretched, startling not-Jack once again.

Not-Jack set down what he was working on and, as he grabbed his staff and stood himself, replied cheerfully, “Oh, yes!  Sounds wonderful!  Do you want me to cook?”

“That’d be great, love,” Bunny replied, leaning over to scratch behind not-Jack’s ears and kissing his forehead.  “I’m just going to go clean up while you get started, okay?”

Not-Jack nodded, too overjoyed by the affection to say anything quite yet.

 _He likes me!_ he cheered internally.

 _He thinks you’re the real Jack_ , the sibilant voice stated matter-of-factly.

 _I am real!  I will be really really real when I kill Jack!  Then it won’t matter!  He’ll love me_ instead _!_

The voices were dubious in their silence, but remained so as he entered the Burrow and began to prepare for dinner.  Mid-way through preparing the salad that he knew how to make because _Jack_ did – _See?  I’m real!_ – the maniacal voice spoke up.

 _Poooooiiiiiiissssssooooooonnnnnnn,_ it whispered, giggling like a hyena on helium afterwards.

 _Oh, yes.  Bloody good idea, mate,_ the sibilant voice spoke up, trying out a faux-Australian accent.

_Your accent is terrible.  Stop it.  And NO!  N. O.  NO!_

_KILL HIM!  NOW!  OR MASTER WILL HAVE YOUR HEAD!_ the angry voice shouted.

 _NO!  GO AWAY!_ Not-Jack shouted back mentally, stabbing the cutting board with the knife and cutting his paw in the process, distracting him from himself – the voices.

“OW!” not-Jack exclaimed in surprise as he grabbed a hand towel and held it against his palm.

“Jack?  What happened?” Bunny said anxiously as he came into the room.  He took once glance at the bloodstain on the cutting board before he asked, “Oh, mate.  You cut yourself?  Come here, let me see.”

Not-Jack shuffled over and dutifully held his injured paw out.  Bunny – Aster – _MINE!_ – winced as he gently took the paw and examined the cut.

“Well, it’s clean; you just nicked a larger vein, is all.  That explains all the blood,” Aster noted as he examined the wound.  “I’ll have you cleaned up in a mo’.  Here, hold the towel against it again while I grab my med kit.”

Not-Jack followed Aster’s instructions dutifully and soon found his paw being gently handled – _fondled_ – wrapped in gauze, after a yellowish salve was applied to the cut.  Bunny grunted in satisfaction after he was finished.

“That should be healed up by the morning, Snowflake.  You stay here, I’ll go clean up the mess and finish dinner,” Bunny said gently, as he smiled at not-Jack after he’d put his supplies away.

“But Aster –” not-Jack started to whine.

“No worries, mate.  Just relax.  You were almost done anyway, I see.  It’ll be ready in a jiffy.”

“…okay.”

Aster – Bunny – _his mate_ grinned at him gently, before turning to the knife and rinsing it in the sink.

“Here, Jack.  Do you think you could dry the knife off?  I’ll grab another and finish this up.”

“Sure,” not-Jack replied eagerly, wishing to be helpful.

He examined the knife carefully as he dried it.

 _Staaaaaab hiiiiiim,_ the sibilant voice whispered darkly, drawing out the vowels obscenely.  _It’ll be most exciting!_

 _Yeeeeeesssss, doooo iiiiitt!_ the maniac commented, copying the sibilant’s tone.  _He’ll never see it coming!  Literally!_

_No!  He’s mine now!  He’s taking care of me too!  What kind of person would I be to stab him in the back after he took care of me?_

_The_ right _kind,_ the rough voice supplied.  _You are failing Master!_

_Am not!_

_Are too!_

_Am not!_

_Are too!  Are too!_

_Am –_

Aster waved a hand in front of not-Jack’s face.  “Hey, Jack?  Earth to Jackie!  You in there?  You’ve been acting a bit out of sorts today, love.  You alright?”

Not-Jack started and focused on Bunny, his hard grip on the knife loosening as he gazed into the warm green eyes.  “Huh?  Oh, sorry.  Guess I’m just tired.”

Bunny nodded as a grin split his face.  “That's alright.  I know you’re still not used to all this.  It takes time to get used to the work pace needed for Easter.  It’s just really nice to have company, you know?”

Not-Jack nodded and smiled in turn as Bunny set the table and they settled down to eat.

 _Shove the bowl down his throat!_ the maniacal voice declared.  _Make him choke on it!_

_NO!  GO AWAY!_

 

~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~

 

Bunny was sound asleep.

Not-Jack was watching.

_Kill him!  He’s defenseless!_

Not-Jack reached out and caressed down the side of Bunny’s face.  His paw trailed down the Pooka’s throat, flexing momentarily as if to choke, but then relaxed and continued its lazy path down the firm, yet pliant musculature, brushing through the silky fur.  When his paw reach Bunny’s hip, it returned to his face and repeated the gesture.

_Do it now!_

Not-Jack ignored himself – the voices – those _things_ that wanted him to kill this wonderful mate – Jack’s mate – _MINE!_

He would be his, fully and truly.

 _Soon_.

 

~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~

 

Jack started awake as the cages swayed and rattled from the passage of several Nightmares; he didn’t remember dozing off.  They darted around and amongst the cages, almost as if –

_Playing?  I’d never thought the Nightmares had enough personality for such things.  That might be useful…._

Jack’s thoughts trailed off as he gazed about, noting various features of the room and his prison, before they turned to contemplating his situation.

_So.  Trapped in a cage.  Sturdy, I assume?_

Jack carefully rattled his bars.  They held quite firmly.  Experimenting a bit further, he found he could fit an arm or leg through the bars, but his shoulders and hips were too wide, as was his head.  The floor of the cage was welded fast to the bars, the work rough but strong.  Jack could make out lumps of melted metal in the dim light at each welding site.  The ceiling of the cage was similarly constructed.  As the cages hung from the ceiling, he could make it sway, but not quite enough to strike another cage.

_So.  Not able to knock it loose via swinging.  The chain appears to be sound, from what I can see and hear of it.  Not that I’m surprised – there’s nothing down here to rust the iron; it’s too musty and dry._

Jack peered around the chamber.  Absentmindedly, he counted a total of 39 cages – _Ha!  Thirteen thrice over!_ – several dozen sets of stairs, going up, down, left, right, upside down, around, and through shadows and pillars of black sandstone.  Pitch really seemed to like that building material.  Several entryways could be seen faintly in the gloom, leading off in all kinds of directions, floor not always level with the one in the cage.

 _Pitch really seems to enjoy Escher construction.  I wonder if anyone has ever told him that?_ Jack mused idly.  _I wonder…._

Checking around to make sure he didn’t have an audience, he concentrated on his magic and focused on a point just outside the cage.  Slowly, painstakingly, a snowball began to form, tiny at first but growing, floating in the air by his will alone –

“– and you lot!  Go out and terrorize some children!  Stop making such a ruckus!” Pitch’s voice rang out from one of the tunnels.

And it sounded like he was getting closer.

Jack immediately quit his effort and the small snowball fell to the ground with a faint ‘plop,’ quickly melting away before the Nightmare King entered the main chamber.  The Boogeyman sauntered in, managing to do so despite the fact that he glided along the shadows more than he walked, idly flipping through the pages of some ancient tome.  Jack belatedly recognized it as one of the special tomes that had been carefully set aside on a table near the Mirror.

Pitch closed the book with a snap and set it aside in a shadow, where it sat suspended in midair, before he drifted closer to Jack.  He floated slowly in a counter-clockwise, lazy circle around the cage.  Jack watched the Nightmare King warily as he began speaking.

“My, my, my.  Widdle bunny Frost is awake?  Aww, but he was so _adorable_ while he slept!” Pitch cooed mockingly.

 _Pitch – watched me sleep?_ That’s _not creepy…._

“So, Frost child, what ever shall I do with you?  I can’t _kill_ you, no no, that would destroy your reflection, my pet.  It must kill you itself, if it is to become you.  Yes, I will have you as an ally!  One way or another!  You refused me, so this is your fate.  However, using ‘you’ to kill your precious Easter Bunny… that is cruel and devious.  Ever so much like myself, I do think!” Pitch rambled tauntingly.

Jack was positive by this point that Pitch was losing touch with reality and the most likely culprit was the Mirror.  His only response to the taunting was to glare.  Pitch laughed, a thin, mad reediness to it that had not been there several years prior.

_What the hell does it do to people?  That can’t be healthy, whatever it is.  I wonder how long it took…?_

“You are going to sit here, yes.  I think I might even have to extract the memory of your _beloved’s_ death from your reflection’s memories, just so I can show you how he died before I let my pet kill you.  That would be most _fun_ , don’t you think?”

Jack twitched, but refused to rise to the bait, continuing his glaring at the half-insane Nightmare King.  He obviously still had lucid moments, or he’d have never managed to capture Jack; of that, he was sure.

“What’s the matter, Jack Frost?  Do you have _nothing_ to say?  So callous!  I would have thought you’d be wailing for me to not kill your _mate_ and your _kits_ –”

Jack growled loudly, cutting Pitch off.  “When I get my hands on you –”

“Oh ho!  I see!  It’s the kits you care most about, is it?”

Jack shook his head in denial, but it was too late, he’d captured Pitch’s attention.  The spirit looked entirely too gleeful as he opened his mouth to speak.

_Damn it._

 

~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~

 

Pitch had gone on gloating and taunting, with the occasional threat thrown in for good measure, for over an hour, before Jack’s lack of response grew boring and the King of Nightmares wandered off, retrieving the tome he’d deposited in the solid shadow.  He meandered down a different tunnel than the one he entered by, walking upside down on the ceiling-that-was-apparently-a-floor.  Jack waited a good ten minutes, although it might have been closer to thirty – time was hard to tell down here, with no frame of reference, and his sense of time had always been crap – before he stretched out his paw again and concentrated.  Another snowball began to form.

_Come on, come on… If I can manage this, I can maybe come up with a way to get out of here.  I just need to be able to focus my magic enough.  Arcturus always said this was the best way to work on my staff-less magic.  Now’s a good a time as any to figure out how to do it._

Jack only hoped that he could work up enough strength in time to save the ones he cared about most.

_Hope is all I have now. Focus!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If hope is all he has, I guess it's a good thing he's mated to the Guardian thereof, no? ^_^


	4. To Jack, or not-Jack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! Has it really been _month-and-a-half_? My deepest apologies.  
>  So, the job I acquired at the beginning of July? I quit mid-September. I was getting little sleep (less than 6 hours a night most days!) and, since I was pseudo-self-employed, I had business expenses. _Which were almost exactly equaling my income_. That wasn't going to fly any longer.  
>  As a result of the lack of sleep, however, I was finding it harder and harder to write. Now that I've had a month's rest to reset, my muse is back in full swing!  
> Again, sorry for the long delay!  
> Enjoy!

_Something’s up with Jack_ , Aster mused as he watched his winsome companion frolicking with the googies. _And I’m not sure it’s a good thing._

For the past two days, Jack had been behaving oddly. First it was the change in his appearance, and then it was the more measured, yet flighty, way that he did things. Serious one moment, laughing at nothing the next; which, really, could describe his usual behavior. Something just seemed – off. If he didn’t know any better, he’d almost think that Jack had gone round the bend.

_Surely not._

As ridiculous and infuriating as his mate might be sometimes, Aster believed that he would have noticed the signs of madness creeping up on his mate much sooner than now.

Which meant that there was another explanation and there was just something here he wasn’t quite getting.

_Given the rather – what are the humans calling it these days? Oh, right – 'emo' job he's done to his markings, I'd almost think he's depressed, but... he's just as manic as usual, if not more so. Although, they do have that thing called 'manic-depressive' so –_

Bunny was abruptly drawn out of his musings by a furry body slamming into his side and knocking him sprawling on his back. Lifting his head up, he found Jack flopped across his abdomen, paws to either side of his waist holding his chest up so that Jack could look at Aster clearly. He was grinning from ear to ear.

“Bunny! Guess what, guess what, guess what?” Jack exclaimed, practically vibrating in his excitement.

Aster grinned softly at the other Pooka's excitement. “What's got you so excited, Jackie?”

 

~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~

  


Jack stirred in his cage as a Nightmare trotted by, nickering idly. He cracked one eye open cautiously and examined his surroundings. Several Nightmares were scattered about the main chamber. The shadows writhed oddly – _normal, that –_ and a faint, eerie susurrus of screaming echoed throughout the lair.

All in all, the usual.

 _No Pitch. Good_ , Jack thought, rousing himself fully. _It's now or never, if I want to have a chance to save the others._

Cautiously, he resettled himself so that he was crouched fully within the cage. He held his paws before him and focused, slowly forming a snowball. And then another. And another. They glittered a faint bluish hue in the pale light that permeated the otherwise gloomy chamber. Soon, he had snowballs equal to the number of Nightmares. He then formed a few more, for good measure.

_Okay. Let's see here. I need to hit one with the first throw to cause confusion. I can't afford to miss._

Jack took careful aim and waited for just the right moment –

_Now!_

The snowball hit one of the Nightmares square in the face.

_Score!_

The rest of the Nightmares whinnied uncertainly, as their companion stared blankly for several moments – and then playfully headbutted another. Jack took advantage of their distraction to quickly pelt the rest with snowballs.

He was the king of snow days _for a reason_.

The Nightmares confusion swiftly devolved into a game of –

_Tag? Cute._

“Now, if I can make this work...” Jack murmured aloud as he closed his eyes and concentrated. “This is the tricky part.”

He focused. Down and down, smaller and smaller, until he could faintly sense his very being, vibrating in time with the universe. The very stuff of which he was made. The potential energy stored within. The unspoken desire to act, to _move_. His form began vibrating visibly in time to this pace and then –

He was gone.

He reformed a moment later, floating in the air several feet outside of his cage.

_I did it! I teleported without my –_

And promptly fell.

_Whoops. Forgot about that part._

He spun in the air and tucked his legs beneath him, turning the fall into a roll, and then springing forward across a chasm. He landed with a soft thump and began running. Without Pitch to guide the lair's shifting defenses, it was relatively easy to find the exit. The corridors themselves were still twisting and long, however.

And there were the sounds of horses in pursuit.

 _Damn it. The snowballs must have worn off. Mustn't be able to make them as strong without my staff,_ Jack mused distractedly as he bounded through the tunnel towards the surface. He glanced behind –

and ducked, rolling to the side as a Nightmare stomped right where he'd been a moment before.

_Maybe I can –_

Focusing hard again, Jack formed a small dagger of sharpened ice. He arched an eyebrow at it's size.

“Better than nothing, I suppose,” he commented grimly as he took up a fighting stance.

_It's a good thing Aster insisted on teaching me the basics of several others weapons._

The Nightmare charged and Jack spun to the side, bounced off a nearby pillar of black sandstone, and flung himself back towards the creature's flank. As he flew past, he struck with the ice dagger and sliced clean through, as if cutting paper. The Nightmare whinnied in fear for but a moment before it dissipated.

 _Huh. Sharper than I expected._ Jack paused to examine the edge. It refused to cut him. Then he heard the sound of many more hooves charging down the tunnel.

“Time to go!” he exclaimed as he dashed towards the surface, bounding off every surface he could get his paws on.

Two more Nightmares managed to pull up alongside him and moved to crush him between them.

 _Do they ever learn?_ Jack mused as he allowed himself to miss his intended pillar top and fall.

The two creatures crashed into each other with such force that they shattered into a dusting of black sand.

Jack tucked and rolled again, springing out of it and bounding off of several pillars, towards the shaft of daylight he could see in the distance. The remaining Nightmares drew back abruptly. Jack was about to wonder why when –

“FROST!” Pitch's bellow reverberated throughout the complex, shaking it to it's foundations.

_Shit shit shit._

The shadows ahead writhing only moments before several shadow-tentacles shot out and made a grab for him. In a panic, Jack willed himself to teleport again.

He blinked, startled, when he found himself several yards ahead of the tentacles.

_I didn't expect that to work._

Shaking himself of his surprise quickly, he bolted for the nearby hole he could see. It was only feet away and then –

His momentum arrested abruptly as his footpaw was caught by a clammy, pale hand.

“Frost! Tsk tsk tsk, my _pet_. I cannot allow you to leave just yet –”

Jack took one wide-eyed look at Pitch's insanely manic grin and yelped, dissipating into diamond dust and reforming above the broken bedframe in an instant. He knew better than to wait around and bolted, to the sound of Pitch's screaming fading behind him.

It was sunrise, he realized. Pitch would be held back for a short while. Another thought brought him up short.

_I can't fly. How am I supposed to get to Australia?_

Jack was still completely unable to form the rabbit tunnels, like Aster, over such a distance. He glanced around and instantly recognized his surroundings. Pitch's lair still let out near Burgess.

_But, if I can't make it across the ocean..._

Jack grinned suddenly and tapped his footpaw twice on the soft grass beneath him, dropping down into the hole with nary a glance behind him. A tiny snowdrop formed when the hole closed.

He knew _just_ where to go.

  


~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~

  


Jack's manic behavior reached a fevered pitch the next day.

Aster found him practically vibrating where he sat as he watched several googies playing around one of the sentinels. He reclined against a tree to watch for a few minutes, since he was still worried about the other Pooka. After a moment, Aster quirked an ear towards his companion. Was he – _muttering_ to himself?

“No, don' wanna. Wanna be with my Aster. Go 'way,” he _thought_ he heard Jack mumble.

_Who is he talking to?_

Aster's worry deepened. He moved over to get Jack's attention, but must have moved too nosily, because Jack's ears twitched and he went stiff for a split second, before spinning around, a wide grin on his face.

“Aster! Shouldn't you be working?” Jack exclaimed, voice suspiciously bright.

Bunny paused momentarily, examining Jack's expression.

“I felt like taking a short break to check on you. You've seemed a mite off lately. Everything alright, mate?”

Jack's eyes widened faintly. “What? No, no. Everything's fine! I, uh, just have this thing, um, I'm working on and – and –”

The younger Pooka was getting shifty and visibly upset. Perhaps now wasn't the best time for this conversation, given he needed to get back to work soon.

“Whoa, whoa, it's okay Jack! You don't have to tell me everything. It's a secret, isn't it? Something you don't want to share with me just yet?”

_That'd explain his behavior a bit. Trying to hide something from me. A prezzie, maybe?_

Jack's expression softened immediately. “Yes. That's it. Exactly. A _surprise_.”

Aster grinned at the other Pooka, who's expression brightened appreciably in response.

_Thought so._

“Now, I should be getting back to work –” Aster began as he turned to go, only to stop abruptly as he came face-to-face with Jack.

Jack, who was looking at him with eyes gone dark in desire. Aster felt an echoing curl of warmth in his belly.

_Well, maybe a few more minutes couldn't hurt._

Aster wasn't going to make it easy on the bloke, though.

“Jack? Something you need?” he asked nonchalantly.

“ _You_ ,” came the reply, voice already rough with longing.

Aster shuddered, but reigned himself in with a mighty effort. Two can play this game.

“Well,” he drawled as he took a half-step backwards, turning slightly. “You'll just –”

He took off like a shot.

“–have to catch me first!”

Jack growled lustily and gave chase.

Aster bounded across the Warren, dodging ferns and flowers left, right, and center, before bouncing off several trees and rocks, climbing higher and higher –

“Oof!” he exclaimed as he was tackled around the middle in a mid-air collision by Jack. They fell onto a soft bed of moss and loam, rolling several times, laughing all the while. They finally came to stop with Jack on top.

“I win!” Jack exclaimed, eyes bright and pupils dilated.

“You win, do you? What're you going to do about it, Snowflake?” Aster challenged with a leer.

Jack went for his throat and began nibbling his way down Aster's chest. They groaned in unison, Aster from the nibbling and Jack from lightly rutting his erect member against Aster's thigh. He finally made it down to Aster's length, gripping the base with his left hand to coax it fully from its sheath –

_Left... hand...?_

Aster's brain clicked as all the puzzle pieces fell into place and his eyes flew open wide, his mind clearing instantly.

“You're _not Jack_ ,” he exclaimed, sudden fear gripping his heart. “What'd you do with _my Jack_?”

Jack – _no, not-Jack_ – pulled back abruptly, eyes wide and frightened.

“Bunny! What're you – you talking about?” he stammered. “Of _course_ I'm Jack!”

Aster crawled backwards a foot before Jack's free hand slammed into his chest and grabbed a fistful of his ruff painfully, knocking the breath from him momentarily. His other hand had somehow already found his staff – _Jack's staff_ – and he laid it across Aster's throat. The chill began to seep into him quickly, slowing his movements.

“I'm _real_. I am! I'm just as good as the original Jack! Better! You'll see, I'll _make_ you see! And then we can be together after I kill him and take his place!” not-Jack rambled as he froze Aster to the ground in several places, before standing and placing the tip of his staff on Aster's chest, just above his heart, which was pounding wildly as he struggled to move. “I'll _make_ you see!”

Aster cringed as not-Jack raised the staff –

“Get. Your. Paws. _Off. My. Mate_!”


	5. Two Jacks Enter...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand... FIGHT!

Not-Jack flinched and spun. What he saw before him made his blood run cold.

 _Jack Frost_.

The original was standing several yards away, fists clenched and on the balls of his feet, in a battle-ready stance. His gaze radiated a seething fury that made not-Jack’s heart skip.

 _Oh, shit!_ the sibilant’s voice quavered in his head.

For once, not-Jack couldn't help but agree.

  
  


~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~

  
  


Jack had come upon his reflection and Aster not a moment too soon. It seems that the dark copy had managed to convince Aster that he was the real deal up until he tried to get intimate, if Aster's exclamations had been anything to go by. A part of Jack's mind registered pleased surprise.

 _At least he could tell the difference then_ , Jack had thought absently as he landed in a crouch and stood, shifting into a combat-ready stance as he shouted his warning.

Not-Jack had spun on the spot, flinching visibly. His eyes had shot wide open and Jack swore he heard the reflection hiss, “Oh, shit!” and then agree with himself in the same breath.

That – that was a bad sign.

“Nooo! He's mine! Not yours, _mine_!” the not-Jack shouted, shifting so that he held his staff - _My staff!_ – at the ready.

Jack snarled, “He's _mine!_ I swear, if you harmed one _hair_ on his head, I will _kill_ you where you stand!”

Not-Jack snarled right back.

“No! _I_ will kill _you!_ And then _I_ will be the only Jack and he will accept _me! DIE!_ ”

With that, the battle was on.

Not-Jack sprung into the air, twirling sharply and firing a volley of ice shards at Jack. Jack leapt up into a backflip, flinging several snowballs at his opponent to distract him. When he was nearly parallel with the ground, his feet made contact with the tree he'd strategically jumped towards. With nary a moment's pause, he flexed his legs and launched himself at his airborne reflection. A look of almost comic surprise flit across the copy's face in the moment before Jack tackled him around the waist and crashed to the ground on top of him. Jack's staff was flung several feet away.

Not-Jack was still for barely a second, having apparently taken the split second he possessed to brace himself for the impact. He'd only had the breath knocked from him for the moment it took him to breath in again and then he fought back, biting and clawing and kicking.

“Vicious little _fake_ , aren't you?” Jack taunted and he deftly deflected most of the blows, before squeaking in surprise as not-Jack’s knee grazed his groin. Jack fell to the side, one paw protectively clutching himself as his other distractedly fended off several more blows.

“Ha! How's that feel, _Jack?_ To be kicked when you're down? I bet -”

Not-Jack's squeak was identical to the one Jack had made a moment before. For the same reason too, as Jack had forgone defense to land a solid kick to his reflection's groin. The copy had been so distracted taunting him that he'd let his guard down.

 _Which I did too, let's not forget,_ Jack chided himself as he stood, legs still a bit weak as his groin lightly throbbed.

Not-Jack was rolling around on the ground, groaning in pain. Jack's eyes flit towards the staff and he made a dive for it.

Not-Jack reacted with surprising speed, caught him about the ankle, and heaved, flinging Jack away from his staff one-handed.

“The _hell_ – oof!” Jack grunted as he tumbled head over heels for several feet.

 _How in the – how'd he_ do _that? I'm_ not _that strong!_

Jack grunted again as his back came to rest with a solid _thunk_ against the oak he'd just jumped off of a moment before, head ringing. It took several seconds for his eyes to come back into focus –

“Jack! Look out!” Aster shouted.

Jack's eyes focused instantly on his dark copy and he reflexively teleported a short distance. Which was a good thing, because the ice-sharpened butt of his staff sunk into the wood where his heart had been a moment before. Not-Jack snarled as he wrenched the staff free, leaving the ice-spearhead imbedded in the trunk.

_Yeah... that'd've sucked._

“What did you _do_?” not-Jack exclaimed, anger and surprise mingling in his voice.

Jack turned his small amount of momentum into a roll, which allowed him to get his feet on the ground and spring to the side, bouncing off several nearby trees and rocky outcroppings as he deftly avoided not-Jack's attacks.

“Nevermind! Stop _moving_ so I can _kill_ you!” not-Jack shouted.

“I'm good, thanks! Think fast!” Jack rejoined, flinging a flurry of snowballs at his reflection, who simply spun the staff in a circle to block the missiles.

Jack grinned suddenly, viciously, as his momentum carried him up and over his opponent. Landing gracefully behind not-Jack, he dropped and spun, sweeping the copy's legs out from beneath him. The staff went spinning across the clearing. Not-Jack snarled angrily as he landed in a supine position; he quickly responded by performing a kip-up maneuver and hopping to his feet, immediately trying to dash for the staff.

Jack tackled him. They grappled back and forth, rolling across the clearing towards the staff, which had landed butt-first in the soft earth near a tree. Jack avoided the groin kick this time and, in return, formed a small ice-knife and slashed at not-Jack's face. The reflection shrieked and kicked, hard, knocking Jack back and away as Jack landed a fairly good strike, slicing a long line up the reflection's muzzle and _just_ missing his left eye. Jack rotated himself in the air, landed momentarily one-handed, then performed a one-handed handspring with his remaining momentum and landed on his feet. He sprang forward, flinging his ice-knife at his dark copy, who hesitated momentarily to dodge, which meant –

They grabbed the staff at the same time.

“It's _mine_ , let go!” not-Jack shouted, tugging hard and trying to kick Jack's feet out from under him.

Jack danced around the kicks and tugged harded. “Last I checked, _I'm_ the one who woke from that lake three hundred years ago and picked this up!”

“Ha! That doesn't matter! Once –” not-Jack paused momentarily in his rejoinder as he gave a vicious tug and grunted, to no avail. “Once I kill you, nothing you did will matter! I _will_ be you!”

“Ha, yourself! You can't seriously think you can measure up to me! You're just a copy!” Jack replied hotly, grazing the reflection's shin with a kick of his own.

“Ow! Bastard! Anything you can do, I can do better!” not-Jack's reply almost made Jack laugh.

“Really? You're going with _that_? Fine! I can do _anything_ better than you!”

Not-Jack barked a laugh, visibly despite himself, Jack could see.

“No you can't!” not-Jack emphasized his point with a hard tug, to no avail.

“Yes I can!” Kick, growl.

“No you can't!” Tug, kick.

“Yes I _CAN!_ ” Jack gave a mighty heave and kicked with both legs at the same time.

Not-Jack lost his hold and was sent stumbling backwards.

“Nooo!” not-Jack looked almost like he was about to cry. “You _can't_ have him!”

Jack flipped backwards up into the air and let his momentum carry him drifting away from his opponent. At least he was between Bunny and not-Jack. He risked a glance over his shoulder and saw that Aster had managed to break one arm free and was hacking at the ice on his other arm with his boomerang. Just then, a portal opened and the other Guardians burst through, weapons at the ready. Raven and Frige jumped through a moment later.

“ _Nooo!”_

Not-Jack's shriek was accompanied by a shockwave of frost and ice that radiated outward in a bubble almost as wide as a football field. The other Guardians took cover, while Jack threw up a wall of ice between himself – and Bunny – and the blast. His wall cracked, but held, one large ice-spear lodged deeply in the wall. The tip came to a rest mere inches from Jack's nose.

 _Phew_.

It was then that he noticed that the tip of the ice-spear has sprinklings of black sand scattered throughout its lattice.

_Shit._

“You okay, Aster?” he threw over his shoulder as he launched himself into the air.

And gasped as he took in the sight of his reflection.

Or, rather, the six-armed, _very large_ reflection. With several writhing black sand-tentacles sprouting from his back. Not-Jack had formed six mixed ice-and-black-sand-swords of varying styles, but they all had one thing in common – a serrated edge.

_Well, fuck._

Steeling himself, Jack formed his ice-scythe and charged. Not-Jack snarled, his voice having gone deeper and darker – more feral – and jumped at Jack.

“Whoa, shit!” Jack spun his momentum into a dodge, swinging his scythe in a backswing, but one of the tentacles deflected the blow.

“Jack, duck!” Aster called and Jack immediately followed.

Several _dozen_ egg bombs went off in the air. Not-Jack's swords sang as they flew through the air and deflected much of the damage, but two of his tentacles were in tatters and fell to hang limply from his back, slowly dissipating as if dust on the wind.

 _The hell did Aster do, call in an artillery strike?_ Jack thought bewildered as he glanced towards his now-free mate – it seemed that North and Frige had helped with that – and stared.

There were several Sentinels standing on the hill above Aster. They had leaned forward and extruded a tube from the tops of their heads. They were – they _were -_

“ _Cannons?_ ” Jack exclaimed in shock as he reversed his momentum and launched himself with a blast of Wind at not-Jack, before calling out, “When were you going to tell me about _that_?”

Aster chuckled darkly in response as he threw his boomerangs and called for another volley.

Tooth and Raven zipped around, taking little bites out of the shadow-tentacles here and there, while Sandy directly grappled with not-Jack via his whips; Sandy had two of not-Jack's paws wrapped in golden sand and was trying to disarm the reflection. Not-Jack threw off the sand-whips – losing the swords in the process, thankfully – and knocked Tooth aside with a concerted effort of his bedraggled tentacles, before he turned to meet Jack's oncoming rush.

Jack grinned viciously as he turned his dive into a spin, scythe blade extended. Not-Jack barely had time to react. Jack shredded the remains of the copy's tentacles and knocked three more swords flying – shattering two of the directly – before he let himself crash into his opponent and used his momentum to send him tumbling. Jack rebounded off and skipped backwards, making a three-point landing, scythe-staff held high as he dismissed the giant blade and skidded to a stop. With barely a moments hesitation, he literally threw himself with all he had – and everything the Wind could muster – as a living missile at not-Jack. They collided with a mighty crash and were still.

Not-Jack's large form and extra arms half-melted, half-disintegrated away and left the small, darkly-colored Pooka behind, clutching futily at the staff that had pierced his chest. The ice-blade that had gone clean through him and was poking a full two feet out of his back was stained a dark purplish-red. A pool of blood was quickly forming beneath the spirit. Jack panted from his exertion, face mere inches from his opponent's, which is why he was so completely shocked when his reflection _smiled_ and laughed weakly.

“I – I lost. I lost! I – I'm _free,”_ he whispered, barely loud enough for Jack to hear, even with his Pooka-enhanced senses.

“Free?” Jack asked softly as not-Jack managed to get one paw up to caress Jack's muzzle. Jack suppressed a flinch, allowing the gesture.

“The voices. They're _gone_!” he sounded almost jubilant, before he coughed up a mouthful of blood.

Jack felt a pang of empathy at his reflection's words, but before he could reply, not-Jack spoke again.

“I - _Jack_. Take care... of him... please?” not-Jack asked, pleadingly, his eyes shining with unshed tears.

“I will. _I promise_.”

Not-Jack smiled weakly at Jack's affirmation and then tilted his head back, eyes closed, as he said softly, “Thank you.”

And died.

A loud crack reverberated from the body not a moment later.

“What the -” Jack gasped in surprise a moment before not-Jack shattered.

 _Shattered_ , as if a mirror had exploded; the shards of his being flying outward and passing through, without injury, everyone present. Jack gasped as he felt a shock jolt through his system nonetheless. He vaguely registered echoing gasps from his compatriots but was too caught up in the flash of pain that ran through him to care for the moment.

“What the bleeding hell was that?” Aster exclaimed a moment later.

“I don't – Aster, look out!”

Aster dodged to the side at Jack's warning, but it turned out he was in no danger.

His shadow, on the other hand, _was_.

Quickly glancing around the clearing, Jack saw that it was the same for everyone – their shadows were pinned in place by the shards of not-Jack. And they were _writhing_. As Jack and the others watched in growing horror, the shadows became three-dimensional voids and then – and _then_ –

There were dark copies of North, Aster, Jack, Tooth, Raven, and Frige surrounding them.

“You have _got_ to be kidding me!” Jack blurted.

“Rimsky-Korsakov!”

The reflections glanced at each other once, grinned darkly and –

_Vanished._

“The hell? Where'd they go?” Jack asked.

Aster dashed over to one of his Sentinels and rapped against the side. A heretofore-unseen panel slid aside and a very _Star Trek-esque_ screen was revealed. Jack blinked as he watched Aster's fingers fly over the screen.

“When were you going to tell me you had _sci fi tech?_ ”he asked after a moment's bewilderment.

Aster grunted distractedly. “Hadn't gotten around to showing you all my tricks yet. They're gone.”

“Gone? What you mean, _gone_?” North exclaimed in surprise.

“Where'd they go?” Raven asked.

“As far as I can tell... out. Of the Warren. Based on the way they dissipated, I'd guess back to Pitch's Lair.”

Tooth shifted her gazed between each spirit present, before declaring softly, “I think we're in _big_ trouble.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *cackles evilly*


	6. Reflections in the Dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween! Have some Snowverse!

Not-Jack's gaze drifted around the chamber as he sat curled in his not-Bunny's lap, taking stock of what had changed when he died.

The voices were gone from his head. Now, they were embodied in the dark spirits puttering around the chamber, waiting for their master to arrive. Not-Jack felt extremely clear-headed as a result and was quite joyous for that, just as was he joyous to now be in possession of his very own Aster – _not_ -Aster – mate.

He still had trouble with what pronouns and nouns and – well, words, to use for things; he knew, logically, that he was a copy – reflection – psuedo-clone, but, at the same time, he also remembered many of the same things his original – Jack – did. In fact, if he really concentrated, he could _just_ barely sense the winter spirit. At this distance, he couldn't hear his thoughts or feel his emotions; he'd been too worked up – and, if he was honest with himself, too crazy – during the fight to feel them out either.

At the same time, he could readily feel the bindings of Pitch Black, niggling at the back of his mind. He knew, now, that those tendrils of shadow in his mind would force him to obey his master, even if he was of a different mind on what he wanted now.

The aforementioned tendrils flexed and a mild sliver of pain trickled down his spine.

Not-Jack shuddered. _Best not to think about it when master is so close._

Not-Bunny nuzzled the top of not-Jack's head.

“Ssh, love,” he whispered. “Don' think about it. Master might hear you.”

Not-Jack nodded against not-Bunny's chin and hummed his agreement as he attempted to burrow closer to his mate. When they had first arrived in the Lair, he'd just about had a heart attack when he realized who had come with him – his very own Bunny! And, _oh_ , the stirrings in his loins _his_ Bunny caused.

Not-Bunny was built, physically, much like his original, just as not-Jack was. However, where Aster was all sleek lines and trim muscles, not-Bunny was, well... not _bigger_ , per se, but perhaps a bit _thicker_ , muscles a little larger and – and _firmer_.

His Bunny purred softly as not-Jack's member stirred in his sheath against not-Bunny's stomach. Not-Jack smirked at himself, getting all hot-and-bothered just thinking about his mate.

_Yes! MINE! My own!_

Not-Bunny's markings were a tad different too. Where Aster had floral designs that generally resembled a generic, well, _aster_ , not-Bunny's were very, _very_ directly reminiscent of _Atropa belladona_ – the deadly nightshade. The wider, generally more tribal markings were more or less the same, however, if a bit sharper. Granted, his coloring made that stand out all the more. The markings themselves were a rich midnight blue, so dark as to be almost black, and shimmered faintly in the pale light. While not-Bunny possessed the same white fur from groin to muzzle, the rest of his fur was a stark contrast to his markings, having turned a pale, pastel blue-grey. The fur on his paws and feet, however, faded out to near-black, similar to not-Jack's own.

His eyes were still that amazing shade of green that he could just get lost in _forever_ –

Not-Bunny chuckled. “Yer pokin' me in the belly, love.”

 _Oh god, I forget already that his accent is thicker too_ , he thought as he willed himself not to melt on the spot and scream for his Bunny to fuck him senseless.

Not-Jack blushed faintly. “Sorry. Was just thinking about you.”

Not-Bunny purred lustily himself in reply and not-Jack felt an answering swelling beneath his thigh.

 _Okay, maybe there_ will _be sex sooner rather than later_ , he mused happily, forgetting about the others almost immediately as he leaned up to kiss his mate; it immediately grew heated.

They pointedly ignored the disgusted noises the other dark spirits made. However –

“For the love of – I _told_ you two to stop – stop _doing_ that in my presence!” Pitch shouted as he returned.

Not-Jack suppressed a growl of annoyance and took several calming breaths.

“Yes, Master,” he replied meekly, not meeting Pitch's eyes.

Which meant that he missed the right eye twitching in irritation.

“What would you have us do, Master?” not-Tooth asked, her slightly maniacal timber belying the calm, _sane_ front she presented. Not-Jack knew _that_ voice was always up to no good. “May we go _kill_ our originals yet?”

Where the original Toothiana was a riot of colors, bright and cheery, the dark reflection feathers were not. Dark and somber were the choices of the day, as well as 'fucking creepy, ' as not-Jack had thought in the first moment he'd laid eyes on her. Her hands were a blood red color, with the red fading out into the black as it appeared to _drip_ down her foreams, looking for all the world like she'd just ripped someone's heart out.

And _ate it,_ if the red 'stains' around her mouth were anything to go by.

Her wings, though, were a sight. Completely in contrast with Toothiana's delicate and beautiful fairy wings, her dark reflection possessed leathery, bat-like appendages that were tipped in wicked-looking claws, much like her hands. She very was much a model of a raptor, rather than a delicate hummingbird.

Which, really, blended nicely – or, not so nicely, as the case might be – with the not-Raven. He looked much like his original, although the darkness in his feathers shimmered iridescently in the pale light as he moved, and similar red stain markings 'splattered' his claws, talons, and beak. His eyes glowed a bright red. His voice reminded not-Jack of the maniacal one too, so his theory was that it had split in two.

 _Half the voice, twice the madness?_ he mused as he shifted his gaze to the other two dark spirits when he heard the creak of leather against metal.

“Ooh, _yes._ Can we?” not-Frige said, the sibilant’s voice obvious to not-Jack's ears.

Where the real Frige – _Yes, that's what I'll start calling the originals, the 'real' ones_ – was alternately a strong, proud warrior woman and a prim and proper hostess, not-Frige was very much the opposite. Pure, unadulterated violence embodied in a powerfully built, wildly dressed package. Her hair flew every which way, almost more of a mane than thick tresses, while her eyes were _actually_ slitted and a bright yellow, a shade not unlike Pitch's own. Her style of dress was very much the classic stereotype of the berserker-barbarian, down to the rough, slightly torn leather armor that covered her from neck to toe, worn boots, and hefty, notched axe. Several belts and bandoliers criss-crossed her body, haphazardly, holding variously sized knives and other cutting, slicing, and bludgeoning instruments – a veritable walking armory.

Not-North stood at her side, his outfit a stark contrast to Frige. Trim, sleek, expertly crafted; he looked exactly like a picture real Jack had seen – a memory that not-Jack shared – of real North when he was young. Dark hair, trimmed goatee, the works. The color scheme was just a red so dark it bordered on black coupled with shades of white so bright they almost hurt to look at. Just like his real counterpart, he too carried twin swords, although these were much more curved, with serrated blades, and, in not-Jack's not-so-humble opinion, were very scary looking.

Pitch smirked. Not-Jack suppressed a shiver. “Not quite yet, my lovelies. First, I have a few plans for you to carry out.”

 _I have a very bad feeling about this_.

  
  


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Jack sighed at Tooth's pronouncement. “So, what now – mmph!”

He was cut off by Aster, who'd pounced on him and was kissing the proverbial life out of him. Jack moaned low in his throat as they fell backwards to land softly on a bed of grass. He vaguely registered several laughs, but paid them no heed.

Aster was kissing him. Much more important.

The larger Pooka pulled back after a minute and whispered against his lips, “I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry.”

Jack pulled him back down for another kiss, communicating his forgiveness through his lips and tongue. Aster relaxed into it. A cough broke them apart a couple minutes later.

Bunny had the decency to look embarrassed. Jack just grinned smugly.

_Mine._

“You're going to have to do some explaining, later, mister,” Jack whispered, low enough that only Bunny could hear. His partner's ears fell flat against his skull. “How you didn't figure it out, I'd dearly like to know. But I missed you too, 'Roo.”

Aster favored Jack with one of those rare smiles that just melted his heart.

Okay. So maybe he'd let the idiot off a bit lighter. Only a _little_ bondage and teasing.

A _little_.

He smirked. Aster shivered.

_Heh._

When Jack sat up, Aster immediately pulled him against the his chest. And then started chinning his head.

Jack grinned happily and relaxed into his lover's embrace.Maybe he could just forget all their worries for a few more minutes.

_Good boy._

North cleared his throat. “Well. So. What are we to do about –”

“Never mind that! What the _hell_ just happened?” Raven cut in.

 _Or not,_ Jack thought as he sighed and made himself become more alert.

“I think I can answer that,” Jack said, blocking any further argument. “The – not-Jack. Pitch made him; copied me with the Obsidian Mirror. He's kind of like a fetch, in that he needs to kill his original – me – to be able to become 'real.' A very twisted Pinocchio situation. Anyway, when not-Jack died, he, well... Pitch must have booby trapped him. His shards, when he shattered, acted as miniature Mirrors and copied everyone else. Except Sandy. What the hell, Sandy?”

Sandy shrugged, grinned, and – and – _reached_ into his body and pulled out the shard that had tried to pass through him. As Jack watched, it frayed at the edges, disintegrating slowly into golden sand.

_That wasn't weird. No...._

Frige nodded. “That definitely looks like Pitch's magic. I can almost smell it.”

“We should take shard to the Aztecs. They would know what to do,” North suggested after a moment.

“Nah, mate. I think the shard should remain here in –” Aster paused as he fumbled around behind Jack for a moment. “Aha, here we go. Put it in this little jar, Sandy. We'll keep it safe, here. Where it can't cause any more trouble. You North, go bring Tezcatlipoca and Quetzalcoatl here. We can better formulate a plan then, once they examine it.”

After a round of agreements, the shard was stowed and North, Frige, and Tooth went off to retrieve the Aztec gods. Sandy hung about to guard the jar, just in case the shard acted up. Jack and Aster retired to the burrow for some much needed rest.

  
  


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Not-Jack gasped as his Bunny licked his way up his rigid rabbithood.

“ _Yessss!_ More!”

His Bunny chuckled, low in his throat and went to take not-Jack in his mouth –

“Aaaah! My _eyes!_ ”

Not-Bunny grunted and pulled back, casually moving so as to block Pitch's view of not-Jack's twitching member.

 _Oh goddamnit,_ not-Jack thought as he groaned in frustration.

“Go! Out of this chamber! Away from my books! You didn't already get – _anything_ on them, did you?” Pitch commanded, before his tone drifted over into possessive whining.

_This is getting old. Fast._

  
  


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“AAAAH! MY EYES! WHY?”

Not-Jack started from his pleasant haze, while his Bunny did not even flinch or stop thrusting. Not-Jack groaned despite himself.

 _Again? Can we get_ no _privacy here?_

Not-Jack watched with some amusement as Pitch paled – amazing, that; didn't think the old bat could get any paler – and turned around.

“Okay! That's _it!_ This is the twenty-fifth time I've walked in on you two doing – _something_. I can't take it anymore! You two – out! Go! Leave my lair!”

Not-Bunny stopped thrusting at that pronouncement. Not-Jack whined; his Bunny thrust once, sharply, as if to tell him to shush. Not-Jack groaned, but complied.

“What'd'ya mean, _leave_? Where should we go?” not-Bunny asked.

Pitch chanced a glance over his shoulder. Not-Bunny thrust lightly in response; not-Jack whimpered as Pitch twitched and turned back around hastily.

“Anywhere that's not _here!_ Go – go make your own Warren, for all I care! Just leave! And – and take this with you.” Pitch tossed a small orb over his shoulder. It looked like spun glass, from his nightmare sand. “I'll call you with that if I need you. Now, just – go.”

“... can we finish?” not-Bunny asked, tone slightly breathless, but reasonable, as he caught the orb.

“... FINE. Just – hurry up, then get out of here!” Pitch commanded as he all but fled from the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not-Jack and not-Bunny are fun. ^_^


	7. Trouble at the Tooth Palace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long delay again! Life and such got in the way. We've about reached the mid-point of this story, I think. I hope to have this finished by Christmas, at the latest; with luck, sooner. Enjoy!

The information they gathered from the Aztec gods was disturbing. According to Tezcatlipoca, it seemed that Pitch had advanced pretty far in his understanding of the workings of the Mirror. Much further than anyone else who'd had the chance to use it. Jack blamed the books he'd stolen. Tezcatlipoca explained to them that the Mirror could do many things – scrying, copying, distant spellcasting, and more – but what it couldn't _not_ do is drive the user insane, unless they possessed Aztec blood, which acted as a sort of 'key' to the magical device to unlock it's full potential and a defense to prevent others from using it for long. For Pitch to have survived as long as he had, with his sanity as relatively stable as it appeared, according to Jack's description, shocked Tezcatlipoca; generally by this point, they'd be a raving madman, barely able to take care of themselves, let alone _plot_ against anyone.

“Aster!” Jack called from across the field of flowers, shaking the older Pooka out of his brooding thoughts. “Are the plants about ready for the eggs?”

Bunny paused and double-checked everything quickly, before calling back, “Send 'em in, Frostbite!”

Aster hopped up onto a small outcropping of mossy rock and watched as the hordes of googies moved forward for their paint jobs, shepherded expertly by his mate. Jack really made his job almost too easy, really – he was absolutely _amazing_ at guiding the googies around once he'd gotten used to their body language and how to get them to listen to him. The only one better at it was Aster himself. Really, Jack was just the most perfect mate a bloke could hope for -

Jack waved a paw in front of Aster's face, startling him out of his reverie. “Earth to Bunny?”

“Wha – sorry, mate. Got distracted,” Aster replied, ears dropping slightly in mild embarrassment.

Jack cocked an eyebrow as he lazily swung his staff and threw a light blast of air to guide a wayward googie back into the path. “About what?”

Aster blushed brightly enough for his nose to change shade. Jack laughed delightedly.

“You were thinking about me again, weren't you?” the smaller Pooka asked, eyes alight. “You know, it's a good thing your eggs can't talk, or the stories they'd tell the children!”

“Oi!” He made a grab for Jack's waist, but the winter spirit floated away, laughing, as he returned to shepherding the googies.

“Just you wait, Cottontail. We can have fun tonight,” Jack singsonged as he drifted away.

  
  


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Jack was relaxing back against his mate, lazing comfortably as they watched the last of the egglets wandering down the tunnels, on their way to hide themselves for Easter, when they were startled by the Aurora passing by overhead. They shot to their feet and Jack immediately moved for the tunnel to North America. A paw on his shoulder stopped him.

“No, mate. Asia. The color of the Aurora indicates the Tooth Palace.”

Jack groaned as he switched gears. “What could it be?”

“Nothing good, I expect. Good thing I kept my bandolier with me this afternoon.”

They dashed off, running and flying through the entrance to the Asian tunnel network. Like always, Jack felt - _weird_ , moving through the long-distance tunnels. He could almost feel the time dilation occurring, but in reverse of what one would expect of traveling at high speeds, according to science: the longer they spent in the tunnels, the _less_ time passed outside, rather than the reverse. Or at least, that's how it felt to Jack. He really needed to have Bunny explain it to him at some point.

Finding the side tunnel marked with an etched rendition of the Tooth Palace on the keystone, they made a sharp left and, a moment later, an exit portal opened. Jack flew through, Bunny right on his heels -

Into chaos.

The Tooth Palace was under attack.

Dozens upon dozens of nightmares were flying around, chasing the mini-fairies and generally causing a ruckus. Not-Frige was at the head of a troupe of shadowy figures, all armed to the teeth as they clashed with yeti outfitted for heavy combat. Jack quickly found Sandy, North, and Tooth – their bright colors a stark contrast against the horde of darkness. Not-North himself immediately turned towards them as they exited the tunnel.

“Ho ho! The rabbits have arrived! I will make strew tonight!” he guffawed as he turned and charged at them, riding atop a warhorse-nightmare, complete with shadowy barding, tack, and harness.

Jack and Bunny threw themselves to opposite sides, narrowly dodging the flying hooves and serrated blades. Jack went over a cliff side, but wasn't worried as he fell towards the Palace, until -

“Hiiiii Jack! What pretty teeth you have! _Give them to me!_ ” not-Tooth shrieked as she flew up from below to meet him, a heavy-looking scimitar already arcing through a swing.

 _Shit!_ Jack thought as he flung his staff outward and commanded the Wind to send him into an upwards spiral. He dodged the blade by a hair's breadth; he felt the wind of it's passage as it flew by his face. He threw a few hardened snowballs at the dark fairy's retreating back, one of which struck home, disrupting her ability to fly for a moment, causing her to have to grab onto the cliff side. She shot a glare his way.

“Is that all you have, little sprite?” she taunted as she launched herself at him.

Jack summoned his ice-scythe and spun through the air, blade flashing. Not-Tooth blocked his strike and returned with an attack of her own, which Jack deflected. He then feinted to the left, before altering his movements at the last moment, bringing his scythe blade down in a vertical strike, which struck a glancing blow, severing feathers and drawing blood from a flesh wound. Not-Tooth shrieked in shock, more than pain, and redoubled her attack.

 _My god, she's fast!_ It was all he could do to counter the renewed offensive. His staff sang as it spun through the air, it was moving so fast. _This isn't good._

  
  


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Bunny watched Jack fly off the cliff, but only for a second, before he turned his attention back to North's dark copy. He resembled North, in his youth, and seemed to possess much of the brashness and vigor of the younger man too, including a vicious streak that likely dated back to North's bandit days under another Bandit King's leadership. Wasting no time, he drew and threw both of his boomerangs, which not-North easily deflected, but that hadn't been his goal. He dove to the side, as he was going to dodge the next charge, but, at the last moment, bounded off of a jutting stone slab and kicked not-North from his mount, sending him sprawling, although only for a moment. The reflection quickly recovered and landed on his feet a moment later.

“Ha! You think you can best me? Have at you!” not-North taunted, before launching himself forward, blades first.

Aster's boomerangs returned not a moment later, allowing him to deflect and block not-North's onslaught. After several dozen blocked strikes, Aster found an opening and dropped into a spinning kick, sweeping not-North's feet out from under him. In the same motion, he disarmed the fake Cossack of one of his serrated blades and stowed his boomerangs, catching the weapon as it fell to the earth. He then performed several backflips to give himself some distance and moved into a battle-ready stance.

Not-North guffawed. “Good show, prey. But it will not avail you!”

“Bring it, bogan,” Aster taunted in return, crooking two fingers in invitation.

  
  


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Jack finally found an opening – or, rather, made one, by commanding the Wind to blow downward against both him and the copy of Tooth with gale-force winds. She shrieked as she was thrown towards the ground with force. Jack, knowing it was going to be a hard landing if he didn't do something, extracted a small egg bomb from one of his pouches, one of the few Aster had made for him and threw it directly below him. It impacted against the ground a moment before he did – or would have, if it hadn't opened a tunnel for him to fall into.

Within the tunnels, Jack's momentum carried him forward, rather than downward, thanks to the blessing of what Aster called 'subjective directional gravity' – basically, as Jack had found out, it meant that he could change the direction of 'down' with but a thought. He rocketed through the tunnel for a few hundred feet as he arrested his inertia, before tapping against the ceiling and exiting the tunnel through the opening he created. He was about four hundred yards away from where he'd dropped in.

_Insane, the distance those tunnels can cover in an instant._

Quickly taking note of the current lay of the land – the nightmares' numbers were slowly dwindling, thanks to Sandy, who had converted several into golden pterodactyls while Tooth kept the shadowy 'men' busy so North could duel with not-Frige – Jack hopped out of the tunnel.

 _That has to be awkward,_ Jack thought as he flew up and over the battlefield, looking for his opponent. _Where is she... aha!_

Jack found a spot on the ground littered with feathers, and not a small amount of blood – the rocks look a bit sharp there – but no sign of -

“Whoa!” Jack shouted as he ducked a singing blade, which narrowly missed his ears.

“YOU!” not-Tooth shrieked – _really, does she know any other volume?_ \- and swung again.

Jack deflected the blow as he assessed her health. Which was – not good. Bleeding and bloodstained, it was hard to tell her red markings apart from her own blood in places. _Good._

Jack ducked and threw another blast of Wind at her, knocking her back several dozen feet, spinning head over heels, as he restored his ice-scythe to full sharpness and solidity. Now, to strike while she was off-balance.

He launched himself into wide, arcing spin, scythe blade singing through the air, and connected. Not-Tooth shrieked as he sliced her neatly in half. Her two halves landed neatly next to each other as Jack came to a three-point landing a short distance away, staff held aloft as he allowed the dripping scythe to breakdown and dissipate. He quickly dashed forward and slammed his staff into the ground amongst her remains, freezing them solid even as he heard the first cracking from her form beginning to shatter into mirror fragments.

“Uh uh uuh, no more duplicates!” he chastised mockingly as he willed more power into his ice.

After a minute, the shards started to dissolve within the ice. Good. Safe enough to leave it now and join Aster – whose scream of pain echoed down into the canyon below.

“Bunny!”

  
  


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Bunny grunted as he dropped to one knee and stabbed the point of the sword tip-down into the ground. He reached down with his good hand and picked up his severed forearm.

“You're – good, I'll give you that,” he panted as he carefully aligned the stumps together.

“You admit I am better, prey? This is too good -”

“No. I simply said that you are _good_. Not _better_ ,” Aster countered as he tried to focus.

“Bunny! No!” Jack exclaimed as he came up over the cliff's edge, worry swiftly giving way to anger. He quickly spun on the spot and charged not-North. “I'll _kill you!_ ”

Aster blinked dazedly. _Whoa, blood loss_.

“Well, that's one way to have enough time for this...” he muttered as he watched Jack rain death from above. There was really no other way to describe the veritable hail of sharpened ice shards that fell from the sky upon the place that not-North had been standing in.

Had.

Bunny tilted to the side and barely caught himself, but dropped his severed arm in the process. _Bloody hell_.

“Aster! Aster, oh my god, your arm!” Jack all but teleported to his side, he appeared so fast. “Oh my god, oh my god...!”

“Oi! Frostbite! Get it together! Help – help me sit down,” Aster shouted as he swayed again, but managed to grab onto his severed arm again.

As Jack helped him sit back, he abruptly noticed that not-North was nowhere to be seen. “Where'd he go?”

“Dead. Or, at least, very very injured and trapped,” Jack replied flippantly. “But your arm -”

“Shut it, Frostbite. Can you keep me steady?” Jack nodded vigorously. “This is going to hurt so bloody much...”

“What -”

“Shut it,” Aster chided again as he finally managed to align his two stumps together correctly and focused inward.

He was vaguely aware of Jack's gasp as the flesh of his arm visibly writhed around the stumps and reattached, muscle to muscle, tendon to tendon, bone to bone and -

“Oh bloody fuck!” he exclaimed as his arm flared up in pain.

Nerve to nerve.

When the shifting stopped, he collapsed against Jack, panting. He weakly held up his arm before him and slowly flexed his fingers. A glance to the side told him a bit of fur was missing around the site of the injury, but that would grow back in over the next week or so. He wasn't worried.

“See, love? Good as new,” he whispered, out of energy.

“What did you _do?!_ ”

“Shapeshiftin' is good for more 'an changin' shape, love. I just... reconnected everythin'. Hurts lots though.”

Jack cradled Bunny's head and hugged him tight. “I was so worried.”

“I – I can tell. That was 'mazin', love. Ya should check that he's gone though.”

“Okay. Okay,” Jack said as he settled Aster against a tree stump. “Don't move.”

“No worries mate.”

Aster watched dazedly as Jack went and poked around the huge pile of ice shards. He was witness to his mate frowning and then forming a sharp point on the butt of his staff and stabbing it in amongst the ice, before quickly jumping back and freezing the entire pile of shards and fragments solid. The butt of the staff was dripping a dark, oozing liquid.

“He's gone now, Bunny. I'm sure of it. We should check on the others.”

“Jack! Bunny!” Tooth shouted as she flew over. “What happened?”

Jack started. “Is the battle over?”

“Yes. North and Sandy are finishing off the last of the stragglers. You should have seen the sword work between him and Frige's reflection – Bunny, what's wrong?”

“I just reattached me arm -”

“Oh god! He cut it _off?”_

“It's all better now, so ya don' need ta worry,” Aster replied softly. “But I could use a good rest now. We can talk about this later, yeah?” Tooth nodded emphatically. “Jackie, can you help me home?”

“No need, Bunny. Here, snow globe make trip easy,” North announced as he tossed the aforementioned globe near Aster. “Go. Rest. We strategize later, da?”

“Da,” Aster replied cheekily as Jack picked him up and guided him to the portal. “Thanks mate.”

"Welcome. Now, I need drink. And wife. Wife and drink. Sandy, Tooth, join me?" Aster heard North ask as they went through the portal.

  
  


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Any replies Jack might have heard were cut off as the portal closed behind them, now safely ensconced back in the Warren.

"Papa!" Lavender shouted as she collided with Aster's leg. “Are you okay? Your arm looks funny! Where's the fur?”

Cypress stood a respectful distance away, although he was bouncing on the balls of his feet, ready to dash forward himself. Hawthorn stood to his brother's side, arms crossed as he grinned at Lavender's exuberance. Aster gestured weakly for the other two to join them. He shortly found himself with three kits plastered to his legs and side.

“Funny thing, that, kiddos,” Aster began.

“We'll get your father back to the nest first, so he can rest. Then I'll tell you three all about it, okay?” Jack cut in, derailing them. “Where are the others?”

“Back at the burrow, father. Kat is with them. We thought you'd be here somewhere and went looking. What happened?” Cypress replied, curiosity getting the better of him.

“Story time at the burrow. Help me with Aster, Hawthorn?”

“Sure thing, Pops.”

“I'll run ahead and tell Kat, father!” Cypress said as he dashed off.

“I'll get the tea ready!” Lavender added as she followed her brother.

“God, we have great kids,” Jack commented as they started moving forward.

Hawthorn grinned at him as Aster replied weakly, “Sure do, love. Sure do.”


End file.
